Xii: Titled Men
Dearest Prof –
I did not title them:
These ever-ready logs
Ready to assemble ants of cowries;
They dance from sea to land
Wishing to be titled by exigent gods
Who watch over their lonely coronations
Lavished with sacrificial songs!
I did not title them:
Pot-bellied officees of faculties
Chewing mouthfuls of the land’s laws
Their neighbours:
Half-truthful goblins of tax-collectors
The smiling kick-backers
And officees of admissions –
Who titled these men?
Dearest Prof –
Many are these titled men of today
Are they found everywhere?
Do they mount uniformed road-blocks
As we pass safety-roads without eyes?
Head-strong: are their skulls also fragile?
Could the husk of a tax-collectors mouth
Eat the husks of his pot’s bottom?
Who titled these men?
Matching boldly with wrong titles?
Of course, the red-caps of the under world
Visited the newly world-renowned ref
(Prof, a roused lad heard it told!)
Did they leave the corpse by the ref?
Sadistic: are they also shrewdly fraternal?
I cannot lavish the sacred lines.
Copyright © Canny Amah | Year Posted 2009
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